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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487793">Denouement</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackedoutgoth/pseuds/Blackedoutgoth'>Blackedoutgoth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>EXO (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dancer Kim Jongin | Kai, Dancing, I wrote this years ago, Kim Jongin | Kai-centric, dance, i dont know what this is either so, just nini dancing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:15:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>601</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackedoutgoth/pseuds/Blackedoutgoth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The person in the mirror and the person under the lights are universes apart; but still somehow the same person.</p><p>The music has always been his only friend and his movements; his only lover.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Denouement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His heart thumped loudly in his rib cage in sync with the contemporary beat blaring from the speakers installed in every corner of the room.</p><p>Mirrors surrounded him on three sides, allowing his hawk-like eyes to analyze and calculate every movement, every contraction and expansion of muscle, every shift of his body.</p><p> </p><p><em>Assume the arabesque position, slowly move both  arms out and upward towards the head, twirl and then bring back down to waist. Assume fifth position then proceed to brise</em>. <em>Pirouette and graceful landing</em>. He murmured the steps to himself as he glided smoothly across the polished wooden floor, feet almost hovering with graced perfection.</p><p>He bought his movements together, his limbs weaving an incredible tapestry of emotion, stitching each step together to form a heart-wrenching story before he turned to a stop and bowed with elegance to his reflection. He straightened himself and squared his shoulders slightly, his chest heaving up and down in rapid succession as he tried to catch his breath. There was silence for a few seconds as the song ended accompanied by his heavy breathing. The next song started, slow, jazz beats filling up the acoustics of the practice room, but he didn’t move his aching muscles. He’d been practicing for 4, maybe 5 hours now, nonstop.</p><p>He wanted perfection, if he spotted a small flaw, he would start all over again. He would practice over and over again constantly changing his mind, his steps, if it meant practicing till the crack of dawn or till he couldn’t move his muscles anymore then he would. He aimed for only perfection and nothing less.</p><p>He stared at himself in the mirror before him. There stood a boy of about age 22, 23 at most. With tanned olive skin and almond shaped eyes. His hard brown eyes that reflected pure determination. He stood tall and lean, not biceps and triceps but lean muscles, a dancer’s body.</p><p>Dancing was the only thing he seemed to be doing.  He spent days and many nights in his studio in front of the mirror dancing till his legs gave out on him and he collapsed.</p><p>To anyone, it would’ve looked like he was immensely in love with dance, which he was. But he danced for a reason. To the rest of the world he was a shy boy, eyes cast downwards and a small smile of content on his face. To his reflection, he was fierce, elegant and beautiful. He danced to let go of all the troubles, to calm himself, to calm the inner demon in him. He danced so that he could express his emotions; express himself. </p><p>Art is an expression.</p><p>Everyone expressed themselves in some sort of art, some sang their heart out, some composed music into late nights, some used photography as a medium, and some painted. His was dance, it was always dance.</p><p>He danced when he was happy, danced when he was sad, danced when he was angry, danced when he felt too many emotions to tell them apart, danced when he was bored. Danced simply because it was air to him.</p><p>He liked the way his body moved to the sometimes rapid and hard beat or sometimes to the soft and melodious one; his movements a clear reflection of his mind, his body, his soul. Dance was when he was most vulnerable; he was like an open book for anyone to see. Dance made his emotions pour like a flooding river never ending only ceasing with the music.</p><p>Art is an expression.</p><p>Dance was his expression, his life, his story.</p><p>Kim Jongin embodied dance.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello!<br/>this is something i wrote in 2014 or 15 maybe, and i recently just found it buried in my documents.<br/>i'm such a sucker for dancer jongin, i could watch him for hours really, the way he dances is truly enchanting.<br/>i hope you enjoyed reading this failed attempt at poetic writing<br/>also disclaimer, i'm not a dancer by any means, so any misinformation about the techniques is just my utter lack of knowledge in it.</p><p>come find me on twitter and say hi @cutestbobohu</p></blockquote></div></div>
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